


Little Wonders

by SolBaby



Series: Charting Maps [2]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: A bunch of one shots, Short Fics, lots of fluff and angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 13:36:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13191210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolBaby/pseuds/SolBaby
Summary: Moving on is hard. Letting go it harder. And the twists and turns of fate have never rocked them more. At least they have each other to lean on and to turn to. At least they know now that they gotta cherish the precious hours they have with each other. Because at the end of the day, you never know how many of them remain.Small one-offs and shorter fics I didn't want to put with the Charting Maps work.





	Little Wonders

**Author's Note:**

> So This Is Christmas Part 1 of 2

It was December 23.

Christmas time.

The holiday season. Hannukkah. Kwannza. Yuletide. Whatever name you had for it, it was the time of year where everyone worked just a little bit harder to be nicer. To be more forgiving. More generous. More loving towards one another. The time of year where the world seemed to come alive during the day.

Shopping malls were crowded with people eager to get the perfect gift for their loved ones. Popular Christmas songs joyfully boasting from every nook and cranny of every shop, home, and cracked car window. Skating rinks busy with lovers and sentimental romantics overdosed on holding cold hands and slipping into each other's arms, sharing heated laughs and breathy kisses. Children's laughter echoing through towns and cities as local parks were dubbed the hot spot for sled riding and snowman building, with an occasional snowball thrown here and there.

And just as it would come joyfully alive in the day, it would become beautifully quiet in the night. Bright neon lights painting the snow-covered streets into washed out reds and greens and glittering golds. A gentle snow would fall, blanketing and shushing the town into a lulling white, covering the tracks of today and preparing fresh tread for tomorrows adventures. Warm fires bright and alive in every home, calling to everyone around to gather and rest and soak in the warmth of hot chocolate stained smiles and tinsel-covered giggles.

Christmas time was time for friends. For family. For loved ones to be together and remind themselves of what's truly important at this time of year.

Happiness and love and family.

And Gladstone Gander couldn't have been  _more_  miserable.

Now don't get him wrong, he actually really liked Christmas time. Sure, he could do without the hustle and bustle of the crowded shopping centers and yeah,  _of course_ , he wasn't the biggest fan of receiving the occasional stray (or purposeful) snowball to the back of the head, even  _with_  his luck. But at the end of the day, there was just something alluring about settling into a comfy sweater in a chair next to a roaring fire and watching the snow fall neatly in the night. He liked the holiday season. He really did.

Except for this year.

This year, Christmas felt like nothing more than a giant punch in the face. The crowded shops and streets suffocated him, closed in on him just a little too tightly. Their voices and laughs and  _booming_  music meshed together into a numbing static that gave him a piercing migraine. The snow and wind bit at the tips of his nose and ears a little too harshly went through him like he was smoke, leaving him with a shiver that no amount of hot chocolate or roaring fires could thaw.

Christmas was now, at this point, just another holiday that Gladstone couldn't bear to partake in anymore. He couldn't celebrate something so happy and hopeful when all he felt was so utterly defeated and pathetic.

So that's why  _this_ year was the year Gladstone was going to spend his holidays a little different. Instead of sitting in a comfy chair next to the fire, he was going to be spending it reclining in a lounge chair next to a tropical ocean. Trade in that hot chocolate for an ice cold mojito, and forget about watching the snow fall from a distance. Gladstone was going to spend his time relaxing and watching some local girls play volleyball from a... uhhhm...  ** _ehm_**...  _comfortable_ distance.

He had the ticket all ready to go there on his nightstand,  _free_  with his luck, and Gladstone could have kissed the passing travel agent on the street that practically tossed it into his mitten-clad hands.

Of course, it wasn't uncommon for him to get free tickets to some glamorously expensive and beautiful vacation spots around the world. Far from it. Gladstone was only 23, and  _already_  the number of exotic destinations he's got a free trip to because of his luck exceeded the number of fingers  _and_  toes he had. Really, Gladstone could almost become bored with the  _all_ - _expense paid_  voyages to paradise, and any other year, Gladstone probably wouldn't have even batted an eye towards the opportunity.

But this wasn't just another free cruise ride or excursion to the Bahamas.

Not this year. Not this time.

Because this trip wasn't about going  _to_  an unforgettable location.

It was about getting away from the place he was right now. A place that held something that he was desperately trying to forget.

This year he was going to spend Christmas completely alone. Away from the cold winds and the cloudy days and from everyone he knew, and retreat to sandy beaches and blue skies and cute island girls that would serve him enough alcohol to make him forget his own name, let alone all the pain this year brought him.

Goodbye chilly and dark Duckberg, hello hot and sunny Caribbean.

At least, that was the plan.

His family had different plans.

His luck always  _did_  seem to become null and void whenever  _they_  were involved.

And how they knew he was leaving was anyone's guess honestly because  _Gladstone_  certainly didn't tell them. He was going to, cross his heart and bet on his luck, he was  _going_  to tell them that he wasn't going to be spending the all-time traditional Christmas at Granny Coots this year. And yeah, that was just about as taboo as telling granny that you didn't like her holiday fudge. Which was sacrilege at  _best_ , and not something anyone in their right mind would do.

But he  _was_  going to tell them. Eventually. Primarily after his plane had already landed. And after he was all set and checked into his rented condo. And only once he was standing ankle deep in crystal blue salt water, wearing his swim shorts and an offensively bright, tropically patterned button up with his golden hair glistening in the sun and his toes wiggling in the sand.

Ok, so it wasn't the most tactful retreat, and honestly, it was a really cowardly way to go about it, but at least he was even willing to let them know.

 _And_  there may or may not have been some plan to cut off the phone connection and blame it on bad reception depending on how well his family was going to take it, but honestly, Gladstone was willing to risk it.

Because he  _needed_  this vacation. More than anything in the world, all he really needed this year was to be away from his family and everything that even remotely reminded him of a familiar Christmas.

However, his plans for a  _sail away-getaway_  were quickly thrown into the trash when two of his cousins came knocking almost criminally early on his apartment door. And like the traitors they were, basically kidnapped him.

They didn't even bother listening to his protests and claims as his cousin Gus practically threw him over his shoulder and regarded his as nothing more than another chore on granny's list as Fethry quickly stuffed a few pairs of his shirts and socks into a duffle bag. By the time Gladstone had enough wits about him to even realize what they were doing, they were already in the apartment lobby, heading out the door.

No one even batted an eye as Gladstone demanded,  _loudly_ and to the attention of everyone around, to be put down or ' _so help me_   _Gus'_ s'. The desk clerk waved a friendly goodbye when Fethry tossed her one of his award-winning smiles. Even the doorman was in on the impromptu abduction, holding the door open for them and having the  _audacity_  to give him a cheerful wink as he passed.  _The bastard_. Gladstone would have flipped him the bird if he wasn't such a gentleman. Also because Gus held him so that his arms were pinned to his sides, but that was neither here nor there. The point was that the doorman had now made Gladstone's personal  _shit_  list for his betrayal.

Within seconds, he was buckled between his cousins in Gus's hunk of poorly functioning metal, which Gladstone could  _barely_  classify as a car. And within a few hours, was permanently and against his will, parked on the edge of Granny Coot's couch.

Where he was now, grumbling  _not at all_  to himself, munching on his granny's special holiday fudge and scratching at the collar of the obnoxiously green turtleneck granny had knitted and forced him in. Both Gus and Fethry were wearing specially crafted sweaters as well. Fethry's was red and had a jolly little Santa and elf on it. Gus's was a minty green, different but still as horridly bright as Gladstone's, and had gingerbread man holding a few candy canes. Appropriate, considering he was currently fast asleep on the other end of the couch with a half-eaten candy cane stuck to the side of his cheek and covered in sugar cookie crumbs.

She had knitted a Christmas tree on Gladstone's. Together, they looked like some poster boys straight out of a Hallmark holiday greeting card. Gladstone would have much rather been on some tropical postcard of an island beach, the words ' ** _Wishing You Were Here_** ' cursived boldly above him.

Gladstone was wishing as hard as his luck would let him that he  _was_.

"Your name literally has the word ' _glad_ ' in it, lighten up cuz," Fethry said over his shoulder, continuing to decorate the Christmas tree in the living room with ornaments that had been in the family for what Gladstone could only guess was a billion years. Fethry adjusted his stocking cap out of his eyes as he hung a familiar ornament of a tiny popsicle sled he had made when he was four and that granny had refused to throw away. "Besides, it's not like you actually spent any money on that plane ticket. Or even the trip itself. You didn't lose anything, so stop acting like you did."

Gus snorted once, and both Fethry's and Gladstone's attention turned to him to see if he had choked on any other sweets that were stuck to him. He only moaned slowly, however, and scratched his chest before drifting back into his loud, snoring, nap. Fethry rolled his eyes and continued to put more ornaments on the tree. "And I mean, come on. It's not like you won't be getting invitations to travel the world ever again. With your luck, you'll win three more tickets to some exotic place by the new year and be as happy and carefree as you usually are. I guarantee it."

Gladstone only crossed his arms and sunk deeper into the worn couch, annoyance creeping into the back of his throat. "That's not the point," he grumbled to himself.

"What?" Fethry asked, hanging another homemade ornament on the tree.

"You kidnapped me!" Gladstone accused, not afraid to raise his voice.

"Oh come on, you're not  _still_  mad about that, are you?"

"Against my will!" Gladstone continued, pointing a finger in Fethry's direction. "You kidnapped me from my home and dragged me here knowing full well that I had other things to do!"

Fethry stopped mid hanging another ornament and turned towards Gladstone, a confused brow hidden under his stocking cap. "What has gotten into you? It's like you don't even  _want_  to be here."

Gladstone ran a tired hand over his face before giving his young cousin a pointed glare. "Uhh,  _duh_! I thought the plane ticket to the other side of the globe was evidence enough of that!"

Fethry now turned fully around to face Gladstone, a bright blue, glass ornament cradled in his hands. "Are-are you serious? Gladstone, it's Christmas!" Fethry practically muttered under his breath. Gladstone ignored the look of hurt portrayed in his eyes.

"So?" Was all he bothered to say, but he ended up using too much vexation in his tone and that was all it took to make Fethry's usually playful and silly smile turn into a grimacing frown.

"So?  _So_? So nothing! Christmas means being with family, Gladstone. Not halfway across the world getting sunburned and snorkeling for clownfish."

"Oh please," Gladstone rolled his eyes hard enough to hurt something. "Don't even start with me on that. That's just the excuse commercialized companies make to help sell their products to the masses. You can spend time with your family whenever. It doesn't  _have_  to be during Christmas. A little snow and tinsel doesn't make it any more special."

Fethry was absolutely  _not_  the confrontational type. But Gladstone just so happened to have the wonderful talent of bringing out the worst in people. It was right up there with being naturally handsome and incredibly lucky.

Fethry broadened his shoulders. He had always been the smallest of the group, being a few years younger than all his other cousins helped with that, but it didn't stop him from standing tall and making his presence known.

"You're kidding. You've  _got_  to be kidding me right now," Fethry said, and Gladstone was distantly afraid he was going to break the ornament in his hands with how hard he was clenching them. "I don't get why you're being so mean and difficult. It's not like spending time with your family is going to kill you! You've been acting like such a stuck-up jerk recently and I'm sick of it. What is your problem?"

And honestly, Gladstone didn't blame Fethry for anything. He was absolutely right and completely justified in getting frustrated with Gladstone. Gladstone  _was_  acting like a spoiled, rotten jerk. Had been for months.

But Gladstone had his reasons. And he had tried to deal with them. In private. That was the whole point of getting away for the holidays. So that the rest of his family didn't have to deal with Gladstones issues. So  _Gladstone_  didn't have to deal with his issues.

But they had forced him to be here. Forced him to suffocate through the piercing pain of it all and Gladstone couldn't  _deal_  with it. He couldn't stop ignoring the burning elephant in the room that everyone else was so desperately trying to cover up with Christmas ornaments and brightly colored sweaters.

"Oh, you what to know what my problem is?" Gladstone growled, slowly standing from his seat and walking over to his cousin, stepping over Gus's extended feet.

Because he hated it. Hated the growing ache in his stomach every time he remembered just how different this Christmas was going to be. How different every other Christmas after this one would be. How the hole in his heart that was  _ripped_  open would never be able to close properly again. He hated it so much. And he wasn't just going to let this hate fester inside him and eat away at the better parts of his sanity while everyone else went about their merry days like this pain wasn't _eating away at them too_.

If he wasn't allowed to take a vacation away from the truth, then neither were the rest of them.

"My problem is that everyone is trying to pretend like nothing's different! Like everything is just the same as it's always been. Like we didn't just lose one of the most important people in our lives." Gladstone was standing right in front of Fethry now, tall and menacing and with a booming voice he usually only reserved for using against his tougher skinned cousin Donald. Not against his baby cousin, who only ever looked up to him with bright eyes and a goofy grin playing on his lips.

To his credit though, Fethry didn't back down and stood his ground against the looming Gladstone. His eyes betrayed something painful and heavy at the acknowledgment of his words, but Gladstone was too wrapped up in his own aching misery to notice the shaking in his cousin's hands.

"So,  _yeah,_  sorry if I come off as bratty, or difficult or  _mean_. But at least  _I'm_  being honest with myself. At least I'm not trying to fake being happy and lie to myself about what's really going on."

And Gladstone felt awful. He really was the worse guy. Because his family didn't deserve his pissy mood or his melodramatic backlash.  _Fethry_  certainly didn't deserve it. Gladstone knew he was hurting just as much as he was, and that pretending that everything was ok was just how Fethry coped with the gaping hole in his chest.

But he was angry. And he was  _hurt_. And he was just so goddamn tired and miserable that he just wanted to scream at the top of his lungs before burying himself in the ground and never seeing the sunlight again. All he wanted to do was fold himself up into nothing and hide away his heart so that nothing could ever hurt him like this again.

"Nothing is ok! Nothing will ever be ok again! And I refuse to parade around making stupid gingerbread houses and gorging myself on sugar cookies like it is and pretend like everything is normal and fine and  _not_  awful! So stop trying to make me get into the stupid holiday spirit and make me see this as anything other than an excuse to ignore what's right in front of us. Make me ignore the fact that this is the first Christmas of every other Christmas for the rest of our damn lives that Della isn't going to be a part of!"

And he was breathing hard now, and his voice hurt with so much raw energy and passion as he pretended that the stinging at the edges of his eyes  _weren't_  there. "Della is gone. She's gone forever and no amount of  _fucking_  Christmas cheer is going to make that fact any less real or painful or-!"

_**"CRASH!"** _

Whatever Gladstone was going to say quickly died away, caught in his throat at the sound of shattering glass hit the ground between their feet.

He didn't realize he was gesturing his hands too much, Gladstone always had the bad habit of talking with his hands. He didn't mean to bring one of them down too close to Fethry's arms. But he did, and in the process, knocked one of granny's special ornaments to the floor.

Crystal blue shards sparkled against the glow of the Christmas lights on the tree between him and Fethry. Both of them shocked by the sudden break in the confrontation. Gladstone only then noticed the sheer wideness and shock in Fethry's eyes as he continued to hold his hands as if the ball ornament were still in them. Gladstone cursed himself inwardly.

_What am I doing?_

"Gladstone! Fethry!"

Both heads immediately turned and locked on Granny Coot standing in the entrance to the living room. She was wiping flour-caked hands on a dishrag that was tucked into her waist apron. Her eyes were wide with concern, hidden behind half-moon glasses, and trained solely on Gladstone and Fethry.

"I broke an ornament," Gladstone didn't hesitate to blurt out before Fethry could even blink at the situation. "I knocked it out of his hands. Don't move, I'll go get a broom."

And Gladstone quickly jumped on the retreat out of the living room, not making eye contact with granny as he passed, and made his way to the closet in the hallway. Fethry was barefoot. That was his excuse if anyone had asked. Gladstone still had his boots on and was able to step over the shattered glass to go get a broom.

Really though, he just needed a second away to compose himself. To try and catch the breath he didn't know he had lost.

Running away. That's all he ever did. That's all he was ever good at. The only real skill he had. Ducking away and closing his eyes and running head first in the opposite direction at the first sign of trouble. If Gladstone didn't already hate himself, he would have almost been ashamed of the natural instinct.

Because honestly, what the  _hell_  was he doing.

God, he felt like an idiot. Why did he have to go off on Fethry like that? The poor kid was just trying to get Gladstone to feel better, of  _course_  Gladstone knew that, and he went and blew up in his face anyway. It wasn't Fethry's fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Yet Gladstone had made it seem like he was the victim in all of this.

Like he was the only one who was suffering. Like he was the only one who missed Della.

It wasn't fair. Not to him, and certainly not to any of his family. Gladstone felt like the biggest jackass in the world as he shuffled back wordlessly towards the living room. Brush and dustpan in hand.

Granny had moved towards the couch and was dusting the crumbs off Gus's shirt, pulling the candy cane off of his face when Gladstone entered. He continued not to make eye contact with her as he moved to where Fethry was still standing. He hadn't moved an inch from where Gladstone had told him to stay as he stared intensely at the broken shards at his feet. His hands shaking and twisting the bottom of his sweater into a wrinkled mess.

Gladstone knelt down and swept up the ornament in a matter of seconds, and only realized granny had been talking once he had stood up with the now filled dustpan in his hand.

"Don't worry dear. I have plenty of other ornaments that mean much more to me than a little glass ball. And you've done such a lovely job with the tree already! I can't wait till Donald and Daisy get here to see it. Ahh! I know they'll love it." And she was wearing that warm smile that showed off the laugh lines around her eyes and you knew she was telling the truth. She had such a honey filled tone to her voice, soft and sweet, that you couldn't help but relax and melt into it when she spoke.

Maybe it was all grandmas. Maybe it was just his. But granny had always had that special touch that could make any problems disappear. She could make any heated argument seem ridiculous and pointless, settle any dispute with a calm wave of her hand. Make any and all hurt feelings wash away with a brush of her thumb against a tear streaked cheek and a gentle kiss too the forehead. She used to tell him it was because she was magical. Gladstone  _still_  believed her.

Fethry's breathing seemed to slow down, which Gladstone was only now realizing that he had been on the cusp of hyperventilating before, and nodded at granny's words. His mouth twitched into a small half smile, genuine if not a bit shaken as well. Gladstone knew Fethry couldn't fake a smile on his life. The kid had a grin that could melt glaciers and it came as easily to his lips as luck and running away came to Gladstone.

It didn't mean that he still wasn't hurt from the tongue lashing Gladstone had just regrettably given him, but it was a step in the right direction. It didn't make Gladstone feel any better, but granny had beamed back.

Tapping Gus lightly on the shoulder, which was somehow more effective in waking him up than Gladstone's yelling or the sound of glass breaking, she pointed towards the doorway where a box of Christmas lights sat neatly in order. "Since you did an amazing job of decorating the tree, I was wondering if you and Gus would be dears and hang up some lights on the porch before it gets too dark. You have such a good eye for it Fethry, and it would make me feel better if two of you were out there in case one of you slips on the ladder."

Fethry paused for only a brief moment, before giving her an affirming nod, which caused his stocking cap to fall in front of one of his eyes. "Sure granny. I've been reading some good DIYs about proper Christmas light hanging. I'll... I'll make sure they look good. The trick is to use C9 bulbs to give it a more festive and traditional feel."

"As long as you're safe doing it, I bet they'll look lovely. Thank you, sweetheart." Granny smiled back, clasping her hands together. She then turned her attention towards Gladstone, her smile never wavering. "Gladstone dear, could you help me in the kitchen, I can't reach some of the pans I need from the higher shelves."

"Uh, sure... granny," Gladstone responded simply. He cast one weary look towards Fethry, who busied himself with the box of lights, before following Granny into the kitchen.

Granny had been working in the kitchen all day and had only left it when Gladstone had arrived earlier that day to give him a quick kiss on the cheek and stuff him into a knitted turtleneck. ' _Glad you could make it dear_ ,' was all she said before she retreated right back into it. And honestly, all her time in the kitchen was time well spent.

The room was filled with different mouthwatering smells that could make any Grinch melt with awe. Different pastries were strewn about on the island, cookies, and pies and fudge of all shapes, sizes, and flavors were calling out to Gladstone. Reminding him of days of his childhood when he would sneak a few dozen or so of each and share them with his cousins under the dining table.

On the stove were different pots and pans. All sizzling and boiling with what would eventually become their dinner for that night. Candied sweet potatoes and a green bean casserole. Savory gravy and cranberry sauce. Classic stuffing and roasted brussel sprouts and homemade rolls. And of course, her famous honey glazed ham, cooking in the oven.

Gladstone had always imagined the buffet in heaven looking a lot like granny's kitchen during the holidays.

Gladstone emptied the remnants of the broken ornament into the trash can and sat the brush and dustpan on the floor in case they would need it again, before turning towards granny. "What do you need me to grab?"

"One of my large mixing bowls on the top left shelf. The giant green one, please," granny answered as she turned towards one of the other many mixing bowls she had on the counter and continued stirring its contents. Gladstone did as he was asked and, standing on his tiptoes, searched the top shelf for said bowl.

"You know. It's new for everyone." Granny had finally said after a few long seconds. Gladstone stilled for only a moment, something sick and guilty filled crawling in his gut. "This Christmas without her, no one knows how to go about it."

"I shouldn't have snapped at him like that," Gladstone cut in as he continued to search the shelf, finding it after a few seconds and bringing it done.

"No, you shouldn't have." Granny agreed, not looking up from her bowl as Gladstone sat a matching green one beside it.

"I didn't mean to, it's just," Gladstone started, running a tired hand through his curly hair as he leaned back into the counter. That sick feeling only growing until it weighed something tight and awful in his chest. " I hate this. I hate this so much. And it's not you and it's not Fethry and it's not anyone's fault but... I don't know what else to do."

The sound of soft humming from the stove droned on in the background as granny continued to stir into her bowl. Listening intently as Gladstone poured out his heart like he was pouring tea, and a faint memory flashed in his mind of having this sort of convention when he was kid a forgotten amount of years ago. Cross-legged on the counter, snot-nosed and crying his eyes out as he munched on a fresh brownie and told granny just about everything under the moon that upset him while she cooked.

"And I'm not really mad about the stupid trip. Fethry's right, I could go on one just like it anytime I want to, but... the trip wasn't the point... it was the running away part of it that mattered to me. And it's not... it's not  _you_  guys... it wasn't like I was trying to run away from  _you,_ " he tried to clarify, but for some reason, his mouth wasn't working properly, and the words became harder to match with the pain he felt from it all. It's like he was a busted faucet. There was a roaring unground reserve of emotions he had just waiting to come bursting out, but too much rust and corroding of metal that should have been made stronger was making it so that only a few useless drops came out at a time.

"But...  _this_? Being here? Celebrating Christmas. Celebrating  _anything_  without her, gran? It feels so... wrong. And unfair and... and I can't... I don't know what to do granny. I can't pretend to be ok no matter how much I want to be. It almost feels criminal to even  _try_  to be happy, nevermind what season we're in. And I know I'm not the only one who misses her, I really  _do_  know but gran... it's eating away at me. I'm falling apart and I honestly don't know how much longer I can try to keep this up. I've tried to run away from this, as far and as hard as I can, but I... you can't run away from something like this. You can't run away from Della."

And it felt like bile was rising in his throat as he let out a hard, choking laugh. Sinical and mean and so desperate that it sounded like a scratched record. "Do you know I haven't even cried yet? Not a single tear. Della was my best friend and practically my sister and I'm so  _stupidly_  pathetic that I can't even cry over her- and it's not like I don't want to! It's because I'm so scared that if I do, if I lose my cool like that again, I'll just...  _break_. My heart will literally break and I won't be able to recover from it and I will never be able to go back to how it was."

And Gladstone was digging his nails so tightly into his crossed arms that he wouldn't be surprised it they left permanent scars on his skin as he glared at the floor. His voice rising barely above a whisper now. "Just the thought of her is enough to wrap me in so much grief I feel like I'm suffocating. And I can't live like that... I can't live the rest of my life not being able to smile at the memory of her. It'll break me."

And granny had stopped stirring the bowl long before she had drawn Gladstone into a hug. Pulling him down so that he was practically bent over her, resting his head on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You will  _not_  break," she said not at all fiercely but with enough conviction to almost blindly convince Gladstone right on the spot. "Because you are not alone. And we will never let you feel like you are or that you have to deal with this by yourself."

And Gladstone felt like he was a little kid again, still sitting on her kitchen counter, barely the same height as her as she wrapped him in one of those hugs that just solved all problems. He was small enough then to feel encased in those hugs, no part of him exposed to anything that would hurt him.

He was so much bigger now, and he didn't truly realize just how small granny was as she held him. Those hugs that used to shield him should have felt like a dishrag thrown over a mess the size of an ocean by now. Yet they didn't. This one didn't. And granny seemed as large as life as she's always been. Her hold just as secure and comforting and strong as it was when he was ten years old.

And he wasted no time squeezing her back and tucking himself into her embrace once more. Falling into her words like surrounding safety net.

"This is difficult for everyone. And losing Della... it's so much different than when I had lost my own children. Quackmore and Elder and your mother. That was painful in a different way but yet it hurts all the same. And this hurt will heal if you let it. It won't be soon and God knows it won't be easy, but it will heal. And this break," she said, pulling away from Gladstone just far enough so that she could place a hand on his chest. "Well, if it does happen, if you break, which it's ok if you do, it's good to have family around to help piece you back together again."

She moved the hand she placed on his chest up to cup his cheek and Gladstone leaned into like it was second nature. "If I do, I won't ever be the same again," Gladstone began but granny was already shaking her head.

"At your best or at your worst, laughing, smiling, screaming, crying, it doesn't matter. You're still my grandson. You'll still be my Gladstone and I will love you no matter what. Ok? So we'll get through this together."

This time it was Gladstone's turn to pull granny into a hug. He buried his face into her hair and just  _breathed as_  he just so needed to hear her say that.

Because he didn't believe her.

He might believe that his granny is magical, but she was in no way a miracle worker. Gladstone didn't have any faith that he would ever get over losing Della. He knew it was only a matter of time before he really lost it and just let himself be overcome by the crippling sadness and fear that he'd been trying so hard to run away from.

But granny's hugs were warm. And the room smelled so good and her house was never quiet and always felt so alive and Gladstone guessed that if there was one good thing that could come from this holiday, it would be that he didn't feel like he was so alone anymore.

Or, for now, at least, he didn't feel the need to let himself be alone.

"And don't worry about Fethry," Granny said after they had pulled away, returning to her unmanned bowl and pouring its contents into an aluminum pan. "That boy may at times act like he doesn't use the brains God gave 'em, but the size of his heart all but makes up for it. He understands and he'll forgive you."

"I should go apologize to him regardless," Gladstone said, already turning towards the kitchen entrance that lead to the hallway. Because he knew that Fethry would forgive him. Fethry didn't have a mean bone in his body, this kid held grudges just about as well as Donald could hold his temper. "Do you need help with anything else granny?"

"I know where to find you if I do." Granny smiled at him for only a few moments before a more serious expression crossed her face, and that was the only reason Gladstone had stalled at the entryway. Knowing she had more to say before she had even called out to him.

"Gladstone... I'm glad you let it out. Those kinds of feelings, they're better spoken then kept bottled up. I'm glad Fethry was able to be that outlet because I know that he can take the worst from you and still forgive you. He's safe to hurt because his love is so easily given." And granny was eyeing Gladstone now and if Gladstone didn't know better, he'd think Gus had left the front door open with how the room seemed to drop in temperature.

"But do  _NOT_  do the same to Donald."

It wasn't a warning. And all Gladstone could do was nod back in understanding as he turned and headed for the front door. Because he knew just as well as granny did that pulling a stunt like that on Fethry was one thing. It wasn't something he could ever try to get away with, especially not with someone who had just lost their twin sister.

It was a command.

Gladstone didn't want to even think about what was going to unfold once Donald arrived, he hadn't seen him since he first heard of Della's death and he wasn't exactly eager to address that awaiting disaster.  _One appology to a cousin at a time,_  Gladstone thought as he reached for the front door, only to have it swing open before he could tough the handle.

"Oh, sorry Gladstone, didn't know you were there," Fethry said all too quickly, his cheeks and nose so red they could rival the color of his sweater.

"Ahh, Fethry, I wanted to apologize," was all Gladstone got to say before Fethry was shaking his head, rapidly. Though if he was shaking it at him or just to get the piled up snow of his hat, Gladstone didn't care to find out.

"Don't worry about it. It was my fault anyway. I should have known better than to push you like I did and well, I'm really sorry Gladstone. With everything going on, I guess I just got wrapped up in just trying to make it... I don't know, better than it feels." Fethry confessed, rubbing the back of his neck akwardly. "But that doesn't excuse my behavior. I hope you can forgive me."

The fact that he meant it so genuinely and honestly made Gladstone feel about 1000 times worse than whatever skimpy apology he was going to offer, and he rubbed his face tiredly and pulled his baby cousin into a hug.

"I'm the one who should be saying all of that, I'm the one who stepped way out of line. But, regardless, I'm sorry too. For how I acted. You didn't deserve that."

Fethry fell into the hug like a seasoned pro, wrapping his arms comfortable around Gladstone like he was 5 years old again. "We both didn't. But I can forgive and forget if you can."

And Gladstone hid the smirk that crossed his face by pulling away and pulling Fethry's stocking cap over his eyes, making him laugh. "Easy for you, Mr. I walk into my midterms with no pants on."

"I forget pants  _once_  and suddenly I'm the favorite story to whip out at a party," Fethry complained, but couldn't help the grin that pressed the corners of his mouth upward. Gladstone slung a comfortable arm around Fethry's shoulders. "It was midterms! I was sleep deprived! Sorry if I had other things on my mind than my wardrobe."

"Take it from me cuz, that's the one thing that you shouldn't be forgetting," Gladstone paused, just now noticing a slight chill from the front door that was slightly cracked open, Fethry not having closed it all the way when he came in. "Speaking of forgetting, did you come in here for something?"

Fethry's eyes grew wide, his eyebrows shooting upward underneath his hat. "Oh yeah! I came in here to grab an extra extension cord from the closet. And to tell you to put your jacket on." He said, slipping underneath the arm Gladstone had draped over his shoulder and headed down the hallway. Gladstone turned toward him in confusion.

"My jacket? Why? Do you need help putting up the lights?" Gladstone called after him. Fethry just turned and continued to walk backwards down the hall.

"Nah, the lights are looking capital F fine, if I do say so myself. Color coordinated and everything. Didn't even fall off the ladder once, though don't tell granny, there were a few close calls" Fethry winked, making Gladstone roll his eyes in annoyance.

"If it's to go and check out your handiwork, then I'll have to say, pass. If I'm going to spend Christmas here, I'm going to do it inside where it's comfortable and warm and not below 0." Gladstone folded his arms only half joking when he said, "I'll go check them out when it's warmer outside. Let's say, mid-February."

This time it was Fethry's turn to roll his eyes. "Oh, don't be Grinch. Besides, that's not the reason. Though, it wouldn't hurt anybody to multitask while you're out there."

Gladstone sighed tiredly and stepped over to the coat rack, picking out his grey winter jacket and slipping his arms into it. "Just spill it, will you?"

"I thought you'd want to go say hi and help carry some stuff in," Fethry called from the other end of the hallway, giving Gladstone a pointed finger gun as he yelled out loud enough for granny to hear from the kitchen. "Donald's here!"

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment at the end if you liked it! This is probably one of the longest chapter I've written so far! I'll be getting back to Charting Maps Arc soon, but I wanted to do something for the holidays and I'm already a little late for the draw. Next chapter will be up very soon, depending on how much feedback I get for this. Thanks! As always, lots of love!


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